CD - Rock and A Hard Place
by CalicoDiamond9
Summary: Adventures of Alex Mercer continued. When Alex Mercer finds trouble, he must face the consequences of his actions and choose between telling his brothers or dealing with powerful enemies. Warning: Language (because it's the Mercers) and possible spanking of a minor. Don't read if this isn't your thing!
1. Chapter 1

**Rock and A Hard Place 1**

"C'mon; get your ass out of bed." Bobby sounds irritated. "I ain't tellin' you again."

I roll over, putting my back to the nuisance trying to pull me out of my dark, blissful, and long needed sleep. "Umph." I moan.

Bobby smacks at my shoulder and then roughly pulls the covers off of me. I shudder, blindly patting the bed to find the blanket and sheets Bobby just took. I hate that feeling, being cold and awake when you don't want to be. Damn mornings.

"I'm not going to school." I mutter.

"Yes, you are." He returns. "So you sure as hell are getting out of bed, putting some clothes on, and coming downstairs for breakfast. It's seven o'clock."

Gee wiz, you'd think that was practically afternoon. I groan again, painstakingly opening my right eye. The light from the window is too bright and I end up blinking back tears as my eyeball tries to escape down to the darkness at the back of my skull.

I squeeze my eyes again and I'm pulled roughly up by hands behind me, dragging me from the me-shaped impression in my mattress. Then my feet hit the cold, wood floor and I'm next to the bed. And so is Bobby.

He looks down at me, eyes watching mine. "Get your clothes on." He orders, standing up straighter.

But I'm cold and tired, so I turn to crawl back into the sweet, warm— "Oh no, you're not pulling this with me." Bobby grabs me from behind and pulls me back off the bed. "You got school, kid. You get your clothes on, right now."

"This is stupid. The school said I get a week. One week, Bobby. I'll do my homework later." I make a face. "I'm tired."

"Tough shit." Bobby comments. "Now get going before I beat your ass, huh? I'll be downstairs." He goes to leave, but turns quickly, pointing at me. "If I have to wake you up again…" He trails off.

I nod, swiping the sleep from my eyes slowly. I hear a chuckle and Bobby and I both look up.

"I told you, Bobby," Jack grins from the doorway, leaning against the jam to shove his foot into a sock. "He's worse than me in the morning."

"Don't I know it." Bobby grumbles, he opens a drawer from my dresser and throws a shirt at me. I catch the sleeve groggily and pull it to my chest, glancing at it. "Get dressed." He says, and he and Jack walk downstairs.

Damn mornings.

XXXXX

"Morning, Chico." Sofi says softly, giving me a winning smile as she walks out of Angel's room holding a sweater. Or her and Angel's room, I guess, Bobby just has to warm up to that idea some more. I nod at her. I don't know what else to do. I kinda like her, a hell of a lot less than Angel, but more than Bobby. She's pretty nice and she can cook, which is great since Bobby can't.

Or at least he shouldn't, he's tried before and it didn't end well.

Sofi continues smiling and I follow her downstairs. Jack and Angel are already downstairs, the table is set and few bowls are lying around. My brother's bowls are filled with cereal and Angel has a pile of eggs on a separate plate. Bobby is sitting at the far end of the table and gives us a grunt as we walk in.

"You always sleep like that?" Angel asks before kissing Sofi on the cheek and they sit down. I shrug. Angel grins. "You're just like Jack, you know that? Same crazy hair too."

"That's what I keep telling Bobby." Jack smiles from his seat.

I run a hand through my hair as I sit down as well. Bobby tosses me the cereal bag, Wheaties, I think, and I pour some into my bowl. Bobby takes a sip of his coffee, leaning back in his wood chair. I can smell his coffee from where I sit; it's so black I can smell it from ten feet away. Plus it's crap, but that's cheap anything for you.

I wrinkle my nose; I never liked coffee.

"Eat." Bobby points at the bowl in front of me. "You're gonna be late; you got school, little sister."

"I'm already late." I mumble.

Bobby fixes me with a glare. "Well, you better haul ass then, huh?"

Angel serves himself a heap of eggs before passing it to me. We eat our fill and I sit watching my brothers talk loudly around me. I glance at the watch on my wrist. It's almost seven thirty now, maybe if I just blend in and—

"Shit." Bobby states. "Alex, get your backpack, you have school. And your shoes. You can't go out with no shoes on your feet." He motions for me to go.

I obediently stand, running off upstairs to gather my school supplies and get back downstairs to find Bobby and Jack in the living room. I stand in the doorway listening for a few minutes; it's kinda cathartic.

Then Jack notices me.

"You gonna stand there all day, kid? You look lost." Jack observes with a laugh.

I nod again slowly, looking between my brothers. I hear Jack snort and Angel and Sofi talking in the kitchen as dishes clink and the tap runs. My eyes end up on Bobby.

"Bobby?" I speak quietly.

Bobby looks at me.

"I, uh, I missed the bus already. It leaves at seven forty-five." He raises an eyebrow. "So, can you take me? Or, I mean, I could still wait 'til tomorrow, that would work too." I say cautiously.

Bobby nods his head as he snatches his jacket off a chair nearby. "Well c'mon."

Bobby and I make it to my school within ten minutes. A few rules of the road are broken, but no fucks are given. And I'm still tired. I had to sit in the back though. I tried hard to explain to Bobby that even twelve year-olds can sit up front and I'm almost old enough to drive.

He didn't say anything.

The car stops at the curb of my school. The sidewalk would normally have a load of fire breathing middle and high schoolers in packs of baggy-panted guys, skanky girls, and everything in between. There's usually a lot of cigarette smoke too. But with classes started, everyone's in the hellhole we call school. That or they're skipping. But either way, it's pretty quiet and very safe for a kid getting dropped off by his brother.

Bobby pulls the parking brake. "Alright, move your ass, you got class. You said you were late, right?"

I nod slowly.

"Talk with your damn mouth." Bobby's eyes narrow as he watches me through the rearview mirror.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." I say quickly, grabbing a fistful of my backpack strap and scooting to the opposite end of the seat to push the door open. I swing my legs out of the car, shouldering my bag and slam the door shut. I turn to walk away when I hear: "Hey!"

I step over, bending low to see into the passenger side window. Bobby watches me for a moment. "Do good, little brother. Learn something and don't get into any shit, got it?"

I nod. "Yeah, Bobby."

He nods. "You do and I'll bust your ass."

I allow myself a small smile. Thanks, Bobby.

I walk to the school, through the waist height, stonewalls around the building and up to the stairs. Then I hear Bobby's car pull away. I glance back, watching the old clunker speed down the black top.

Then Bobby is gone and I'm alone.

I check around a few more times. Teachers could see you anytime, you know. They're like cats; quiet, sneaky, and a pain in the ass. I don't see any, so I jog back down the steps and take a left past the walls. I feel good and it's only eight o'clock in the morning.

XXXXX

"Alex, my man!" Win greats me as I walk in the door of our club. He grabs my hands, clapping me on the back and pulls back, scrutinizing me. "What do you say, fellas?" He leans back, looking at our group.

"I say the princess is getting pampered by his big bros." DeShawn leers from his place leaning on a trashcan to my left.

"Fuck off, D." I glare.

"Oh you know it!" Malik croons. "What they feedin' you? Filet minon? I'll come over there anytime, white boy, if that's all the problems you got." He laughs.

"Like you know." I shrug off Win's hand. "I got plenty."

"Hey man, we just messin' with you, huh." DeShawn stands, following Win and I to the table we set up inside the shed.

I single lantern sits on the table, tilting with the crooked legs holding the whole thing up. We found this place around a year ago and meet when we can. Everything inside, the seats, table, and lantern were all scavenged. The rest is junk already in the shed, we just live around it.

"Yeah, at least you had breakfast." Win sighs, resting a hip against the table. "My old man's fresh out of the slammer and eats every damn thing in the house. I ain't been back there since Friday."

I nod.

Win's Dad went to prison for some gang fight a few months back and served his full term. He's on parole now, but what the states doesn't know, or doesn't want to know, is that he's a worthless drunk who beats his wife and kids. Win's the oldest and has a kid sister, so Win gets it most when his Dad's gotten into the beer.

"How long do you think it'll last?" I ask.

Win shrugs, sitting down at the table. "Probably not long. He's back in the booze far as I can tell. They'll get him for somethin' stupid most likely."

I nod again. "Sorry, man." I say, falling onto an overturned bucket, kicking my backpack aside.

"S'not so bad." Win comments, gesturing to the shed. "I've got old HQ herself. We need to get some heat or somethin' though, it's fuckin' cold at night."

"Your call, man." Malik laughs. "I said you could come over last night. Instead you sit here wallowing in self pity."

Malik, DeShawn, and I laugh at that. Win flips us the bird.

"Just sayin'." Malik shrugs. "Complain all you want, but I made you an offer. I can't always be here to help your dumb ass." He sits heavily beside me.

There's a lull and D grabs his stool from the trash pile beside him, putting it at the table before sitting down. I glance around the dimly lit room before leaning forward.

"What about you though?" Win asks. Our friends grunt in agreement. "How're your brothers?"

"Fine. They're not my problem." I reply.

"Right, 'cause what you got are problems." DeShawn laughs.

"At least you get to live until tomorrow." I say sourly. D raises an eyebrow.

"You got trouble?" Win asks.

"Mmn." I nod.

"Which would be…?"

"I owe Cray sixty bucks."

"Sixty?" Malik raises an eyebrow. "Dude, you're askin' for it, you know that? No one, and I mean no one, gets out owin' Cray."

"Yeah, I know, I know." I grouse. "Don't have to remind me."

"I'm just sayin'." He shakes his head, looking around at the three of us. "I'm tellin' you what, y'all are some of the dumbest fuckin' kids around, you know that?" He points.

D snorts, shoving him. "Yeah, you say that all the time, but you're the one that sticks around with us."

"Someone's gotta watch out for you." Malik grins. "Do you ever look at yourselves in the mirror and go, 'wow, I am dumb'. 'Cause I think some self-examination would do y'all some good."

We chuckle at that, making jabs at Malik. He's like the Jerry of our group. Level headed, smart. Out of my brothers I don't know who I am, me, I guess.

"Your bros know?" D asks, checking his shoe before meeting my gaze again. I shake my head.

"The way I see it, you can tell your bros or you can deal with Cray. Rock and a hard place, my friend." Malik shrugs matter-of-factly.

The three around me nod.

I nod. "I can't do either. Bobby'll kill me."

"Cray'll kill you, and there's no getting back up from that. No drug in the world resurrect you, man." Win comments.

Malik shrugs. "I'm sorry, I can't. Got no money. I would if I could, brotha. I just don't have any. You shouldn't have messed with him in the first place."

I turn my gaze to Win. In the dim light his face is more gaunt than usual, the sharp cheekbones and black eyes flinty almost exaggerated. "I can't help you. I can't deal with Cray and my Dad's home. I haven't been back in days, man. I don't have money and even if I did, I couldn't get it."

DeShawn nods as well. "Sorry, man."

I groan. "You're a fucking help. Thanks." I say sarcastically, standing hard enough to knock over the bucket.

"C'mon, man." Win stands as well, trying to reason. "We'd help, really, but Cray's bad news."

"You don't think I know that?" I say in frustration, rubbing my hands together.

They are quiet.

Finally Malik speaks up slowly. "It sure don't seem like it, Alex. You bought the shit from him. If you knew, then why?"

"Like you haven't before."

"Yeah, but I knew what I was doin'. You gotta pay up one way or another."

I watch my friends fix their eyes on the table and middle distance, avoiding my gaze. I know they wanted to help, but they're right, I'm messing with some powerful people. Cray has an entire city of people in his ring and it won't take that many to beat my ass into the ground. Then again, Bobby'd do the same thing.

I sigh heavily, grabbing my backpack. "I gotta go."

Then I walk out.

XXXXX

By afternoon I've got nothing. It's like the Great Depression of times for me. Usually I can nab a few green backs from the street, a parking lot, maybe the floor of Gigi's. I even checked some pockets and wallets, but no luck. I check my watch before heading back to school. I am dead if I don't make it before Bobby or the bus.

I walk quickly and make it in time to charge through the school doors and immerse myself in the crowd of kids lining the hallways. I follow my crowd to our bus and to my house.

XXXXX

I walk through the back door, listening to the TV blaring from the living room. I don't anyone, so I head in carefully. Angel is sitting in his usual place, a chair off to the corner, painstakingly typing on a flip phone.

He looks up. "How was school?"

I shrug.

He nods. "Never liked it." He looks back at the phone. "That was Jerry's shit."

I drop my backpack beside the coffee table, falling into the cushions of our couch. The reality show on is boring as hell, but I don't have the mental power to make myself sit up and grab the remote.

"What the hell?" Angel glares at the bright screen in his hand. "L-O-L? Whatchu want, spell it out!"

I smile. "Laugh out loud, Angel."

He turns. "You laughing at me? I'll give you something to—"

"No, no, no." My grin widens. "It, uh, it means laugh out loud. Your LOL thing?"

"Huh." He scrutinizes me, almost threatening, mainly annoyed, and slightly tired. It reminds me of a toddler. Yep, that's Angel down to a tee. "That makes no sense." He shakes his head and continues his painstakingly slow typing.

Dude needs some help.

"You could type slower, Angel, maybe use your tongue?" I grin over the armrest of the couch.

"Fuck you."

I laugh and so does Bobby. He leans on the door jam between our two main rooms with a grin. "I think there's a law about that, Angel." He lets out a loud laugh.

Angel groans. "Fuck you too, Bobby."

"Oh not me, little brother, I don't swing that way." He strides over, knocking my feet off the couch and shoving me further up.

I squirm up to my own half of the couch grumbling. "Geez, Bobby, can't a man have his own seat?"

He cuffs the back of my head. "Not you. Your balls ain't even dropped yet."

I glare at him.

"That's all you got?" Bobby grins. "Weak, little brother, real weak."

Angel grunts. Probably about the phone, but maybe in agreement with Bobby. I flick my eyes over to him, watching him glower at the screen again, with his head bent forward.

Bobby shoves his big ass hand on my face, pushing my head farther back. I try to shove it off. When this fails, I flail wildly, pushing my feet and myself up from the couch. I make a blind jab for Bobby's chin, only to have my arm knocked aside. Then I duck down, leaning forward off the couch, turning to the left and as the figurative crowd reaches a crescendo, whammy! I hook a left upper cut so powerful… I land on my ass on the coffee table and fall to the ground with a thud.

I glare at the ceiling, cheeks burning like Sofi's hot tamales, as Bobby and Angel laugh. Hard.

Then Jack walks in.

"Why're you on the floor?"

"None of your business." I pull myself up, kicking the table.

Bobby swats my ass. "Don't kick the damn table. It's mahogany."

Sure thing, Effie. But I don't say that, because shit like that's likely to get a man killed. So I just quirk an eyebrow at my oldest brother and sneak a quick rub for my behind. I swear he left his handprint on my ass.

"It's mahogany? Fuck, man, what next? We need doilies or somethin'?" Angel guffaws.

Jack leans on the back of Angel's chair, a similar expression on his face. Bobby just ignores them, sinking back into the couch. "Ma said it."

"What? And you just repeat it?" Angel wipes at his eyes, shaking his head. "Damn."

"You should go into woodcarving, Bobby." Jack leers at our oldest brother. Bobby shifts to say something, but Jack continues. "Oh, but better yet, better yet you go sell them."

Angel laughs, looking up and then to Bobby. "Yeah, man, you ready for that. I can see it now: you dressed up in your clothes goin' 'hey y'all people—'"

Bobby launches one of Ma's pillows toward the two in the corner, who easily dodge it. Jack stands, shaking his head with a smile.

Angel closes the phone, face turning to mock seriousness. "Now, Bobby," He points. "Don't throw the pillows, they silk." He grins.

I grin as well, watching the three and keeping well out of the reach of Bobby and his glower.

"Fuck you." Bobby flips the channel, settling further into the couch. I sidestep the fallen table to make my getaway.

"Pick up the fuckin' table, Alex. You knock it over, you pick it up." He shakes his head at me. "Damn, kid."

"S'not my fault it fell." I grumble, going to leave.

"Boy, you better get your ass over here and pick it up before I make you."

I turn to watch him, feet set firmly apart and not moving to right the table. I see him narrow his eyes, a cold, bossy Bobby returning. "Pick this up too. I ain't your laundry fairy." He kicks my backpack.

I watch in horror as papers, a textbook, and some notebooks fall out onto the floor along with a package. The package falls out onto the floor beside my school stuff. Bobby catches my gaze with a frown, leaning forward on the couch to reach down to grab it and holds it in his hands.

I flick my gaze around the room to see Jack and Angel watching intently. I want to stop Bobby, yell or run at him and sweep up my stuff before he notices, but I can't. Bobby unwraps the contents and I watch as the drugs fall into the palm of his hand.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Rock and a Hard Place 2**

It is one of those moments when everything seems to slow down and everything goes all soft and glowie, like those 80's pictures. And I realize how much I fucked up, because Bobby is going to kill me, and Angel is going to kill me, and Jack and Jerry too, probably. I feel like a regular Monday morning quarterback. Case in point, drugs are bad.

I open my mouth slowly, going to say something, but Bobby's eyes are fire and ice and I shiver and shut my mouth. He goes to stand, hand clenched in a fist over the pills, so I open my mouth again, then I shut it 'cause I really don't know what to say. So in the end, I look like a dying fish, gasping for air before I die. Fitting, I guess. Drugs were the bait, Bobby the fisher, me, well, you get the point.

All this probably takes place in a matter of seconds, but who knows, for me it feels longer.

"Those aren't mine." I whisper.

Bobby lunges off the couch, jumping over the coffee table and backpack and snags my arm with a hard grip, shaking me, drugs still clutched in his hand. "What the fuck were you thinking?!" He shouts.

I wince at the unexpected pain in my arm. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Bobby has me so close I can feel his hot breath on my face and smell the salami he enjoys so much. I shrink down under his glare, feet pulling me away from my brother. I can feel him shake with anger, not even sure what to do.

Angel makes a sound of disbelief, shaking his head. He's standing now, his hat pulled low on his furrowed brow and Jack is next to him, looking betrayed and disheveled. Then Bobby jerks me back to look at him, his eyes boring into mine, the anger making him shake.

He pulls me around again, letting me swing out from the force of his arm, and he turns me to the side, securing me against his hip. Then his hand is hitting my ass so hard my hips jerk forward. And I'm pulling against his forearm, hands trying to push him away, face scrunched in pain and hollering for him to stop.

But he doesn't.

So we turn in a circle. I try to dance away while Bobby nails me again and again, his concentration solely on burning my ass with his hand. And it hurts like hell. He's never spanked me this hard and my eyes tear up.

My Dad used to hit me like this, sometimes. Except he'd grab a belt and hit me anywhere, my ass, my hand, hell, my face. Anything he could get a hold of was fair game. I'd walk away with bruises and sometimes I'd even wake up in some furniture he broke and I couldn't move from the bruises and the pain. This is different though. The only similarity is how scared I am and how mad Bobby is.

I feel tears burn in my eyes, threatening to spill over, but Bobby stops. He roughly pulls me forward again and I hang my head. I go to wipe my eyes, backing away, but my oldest brother grabs my hands, clamping them in his and pulls my chin up. I try and avoid his eyes.

"Look at me." He says, his voice tense.

I glance at Angel and Jack instead. They're still there, arms crossed over their chests, but they look more sad than anything. I look back at the carpet, letting my socked foot pick at a frayed piece of carpet.

"Boy, you best start talking." Angel warns from the corner.

I gulp, meeting Bobby's dark eyes. "M'sorry." I glance between the three of them.

Bobby barks out a laugh. It's hollow and forced, not his usual loud and echoing one. "Oh no you don't. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me where the fuck you got these." He holds up his fisted hand. "You steal them?"

I close my mouth, looking back at the ground. Bobby gives me another hard shake. "Tell me what I fucking want to know, Alex. I'm sick of talking to your hair. Don't make me ask again."

"No."

"No what?" He shifts on his feet.

"I didn't steal them."

"Then where'd you get drugs, kid?" Jack asks, his voice laden with concern. Usually Bobby or Angel would tell him to shut up, but now, they want to know too. And I want to shrink until I'm Nick Szalinski or something and fall into a hole in the carpet to get lost in the fibers of the minute world.

I shrug. Bobby goes to turn me around again. I blanch. "No, no, no! I, uh, I got them. Bought them, with money."

It doesn't save my ass though and Bobby gives me a look before landing two more painful smacks. I suck in my breath, the pain reignited, and the he turns me back to face him.

"From who?"

I shake my head, face scrunched and hands sneaking down to rub the burn from my ass. "I dunno, just some guy. I didn't get his name."

Bobby snorts. "Yeah, you did. Don't lie to me, I will fuck you up." He growls.

I squirm. "C'mon, Bobby, I don't, I swear!"

He leans in close, his hand squeezing my shoulder. "You wanna go another round?"

I shake my head. "But—"

"Then tell me where the fuck you got this shit from." He growls. I lean away, pushing my thin frame to the right, struggling against my brother's muscled arm. I feel his hand clamp down harder on my bicep. Finally I just look at him, the silence not working.

"No."

"Alex, I swear to God…" He goes to move me again.

"Okay, okay." I hold up my hands, but Bobby still goes to turn me. "Okay. Bobby! Cray gave them to me."

Bobby is livid. "Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck are you doing, talkin' to Cray? You little shit!" He shakes my arms and I make a sort of squeal, not dignified at all. Yep, that's me, stuck pig over here.

"Bobby, please."

"No, don't you fucking start with me." He glowers, eyes boring into me like fire pokers. I shrink back, my shoulders coming up close to my ears as the rest of me pulls away from him. "You're gonna answer me, or I will put you over my knee and wail your ass black and blue." Bobby goes to yell more, but then we hear: "Bobby."

It's forceful, but controlled and almost sad too. I glance over to the doorway of the living room. Jerry has his jacket in his hand, a worried look on his face. "What's goin' on?"

Bobby glares between me and our brother, too angry to speak. Jack and Angel shift from their quiet corner to look as well. I probably look like a mess, with tears in my eyes and one sock missing.

"Bobby, you don't need to be doing that." Jerry looks at the older man. "He's emotional, y'all can't start wailin' on him."

"Too late." Jack coughs, swiping his hand on his pants.

Angel smacks Jack's shoulder roughly. "Shut the fuck up, Jack." Jack looks slightly hurt, but just leans back, still watching our middle brother.

Jerry shakes his head again with this news, looking more worried.

Bobby eyeballs me, his expression softened. "You tell him what you did." He releases my arm, pushing me forward. I stumble a little before looking back at my oldest brother. Bobby nods. "Go on."

Jerry looks expectedly at me.

I shake my head slowly. I can't. I can't look Jerry in the eye with his condescending, anxious, sad look. I can't watch Angel shake his head and slam his phone shut one more time, or Jack lean against the wall quietly with his stern watch, only ruined by his anarchic hair.

I can't look at Bobby.

Bobby makes a guttural noise, turning me and pushing the pills into my hand. I gulp.

Jerry notices and grunts in disbelief. "Drugs, Alex?" He just sounds disappointed, maybe even a little shocked, which seems worse than Bobby's shouting and cussin'.

I feel my eyes fill up again and I squeeze away the wetness in shame. I find the floor again and the boring pattern on our carpet. There's a stain there too, probably from coffee or the tomato sauce from a misplaced slice of pizza.

"Use your damn mouth." Bobby voices from behind me. I startle.

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry, Jerry." I glance around at my brothers, hand balled in a fist over the pills burning a hole in me. "Jack, Angel, Bobby. It was stupid."

I hear a few snorts. "Child, fallin' down the stairs is stupid. Drugs, they'll kill you." Angel states darkly. I nod slowly, eyes wavering on his stern expression.

Jerry just sighs again, his hand over his mouth. "Alright." He says finally. "We all gonna go into the kitchen and we're gonna talk about this, like civilized people." He gives Bobby a look.

Jerry nods at me and I slowly trudge after him, with the rest of our mismatched family behind me. Hell of a day this is.

XXXXX

"Where'd you meet Cray?"

I shake my head. "I didn't."

Jerry sighs, leaning forward in his chair. It feels like an interrogation at the table with all three of my brothers on the other side, watching me. Jack sits at the ends, toying with a quarter, spinning it and quietly slapping his hand down on in it every so often. Jerry and Angel are next, chairs slightly back from the table. Except Angel has his hat off again, leaning back in his chair with a sour look on his face, while Jerry leans forward, hands folded on the wood table.

"Then how the hell'd you get those drugs?" His voice is calm, but it holds a tone of warning.

"There's a kid at school." I shift in my seat, glancing between my brothers. Angel quirks an eyebrow at me. "And, uh, he's related to Cray, I think. I don't know how. He, uh, he gets me stuff."

"Bullshit." Bobby closes the fridge door, turning with a cup in hand to look at us. I turn in my seat. "You doin' drugs, princess, or you wanna rethink your situation?"

I'm not, not really. I swallow hard. "Yes." I mutter.

Bobby nods, pulling out a chair and sitting down solidly at the head of the table. "Where."

"Now c'mon, Bobby—" Jerry begins.

"No." Bobby looks at Jerry evenly. "We wanna know where the hell our kid brother is getting drugs. We're gonna find out."

They all look expectedly, and not for the first time today I don't know what to say. Honestly? Honestly, I heard about Cray. I knew the stories, because like anyone macho man, he has a reputation. You have to, to stay relevant. Anyway, I heard his business and about the money. And greenbacks are the sweet treasure of this world, and the key to new video games. So I found him, at his hub, chalked up a deal and left with a bag full of goodies to sell to the kids at school. The catch was I had to pay him back, as in $179.

I don't really know why he gave them to me. It's a helluva a lot of money to through at a kid, and think he'll spot you the payment. But Cray fucks people up. A lot. And I knew walkin' out of his lair that I didn't want my throat slit or worse. All I know is I'm royally fucked anyway I go. Dealing with Cray, loosing the goods, or telling my brothers I've been truant.

Bobby snaps his fingers by my face. I blink hard, eyes focusing on him. "Hey! Tell us where the hell met that royal fuck."

I shake my head, going to open my mouth, to tell him something else.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Alex. I wanna know." Bobby pins me with his look.

I rest back in my chair, my bony shoulders rubbing the wood slats uncomfortably. "At his place."

Bobby and Angel groan. "No shit." One of them mumbles.

Jerry sighs. "Alright then, when did you go, Alex?" He pauses, ignoring the frustration around us. Then I see his epiphany. "You been sneaking out?" My eyes go wide. How the hell did he know?

"N-no."

"We can tell you're lyin'." Jerry shakes his head. "We ain't dumb."

"I didn't say you were." I mumble.

Bobby snorts, moving his cup forward and leaning forward towards me. "Don't fucking lie. How many times?"

"Okay." I shrug. "I, uh, I skipped class today—" I cringe at my shitty explanation.

"These ain't recent." Angel points at the pile in the middle of the table.

I frown. Shitfire. "And other times…" I say more quietly.

"When?" Bobby is unrelenting.

Jerry watches Bobby before turning his gaze back to me. "How long you been doing this? Since Ma was here?" I bite the inside of my lip. "Alex?"

"Y-yeah." I say, my voice wet and emotional.

Jerry nods slowly. "You been doin' this for weeks? Months?"

I nod again, teeth sinking further into my cheeks.

"Damn." The three of them shake their heads. Jerry leans back, letting his hand swipe over his face, resting his forehead in his hands. Bobby just sits there though, glaring at me.

"Why the fuck—" He begins, voice venomous.

"Leave him alone, Bobby." Jack speaks quietly.

Bobby glares at the younger man. "Don't tell me what the fuck to do, Jackie boy. Leave him alone?" His voices rises. Jerry lifts his head. "Okay, we'll fucking leave him the fuck alone so the little shit can go get himself fucked up on drugs and get his ass beat!"

I cringe. "I'm sorry—" I try.

"I don't want to hear it." Bobby silences me. "This ends, y'hear me?" He points at me. I just nod. "I fucking mean it, Alex."

"Yeah, I promise."

"Don't fucking promise me. Make it happen."

"Alright man, y'all made your point." Jerry says slowly, watching our feuding brothers. He looks back at me, scratching his head. "Where did you meet Cray?"

"I, uh, I skipped class a few months ago. With a friend–"

"Who?" Angel pushes. "Daniel? Your little play date buddy?"

I glare at the ex-Marine. "It's not play dates, Angel." Angel snorts. But I watch my tone, remembering I'm on thin ice. Or more like in the frozen waters in the pond where the thin ice dropped my, but it's semantics, really. "But yeah, D'Shawn and I skipped."

Jerry looks confused, eyebrows furrowed and frowning. "Play dates?"

"Yeah play dates, little brother." Bobby fixes me with an icy stare, his sarcastic and sharp voice cutting into me. He knows. "See our baby brother over here snuck out at 3 in the fucking morning to go off with a little dipshit called Daniel." He gestures at me.

Jerry frowns. "That true?"

I nod.

He sighs, shaking his head. "Keep going, Alex."

"I knew about it all. You know, what Cray did, er, does. And I wanted some money."

"Why? You want some fuckin' cash, I'll give you some." Bobby glowers.

I shake my head. "I wanted to earn it myself."

"So you sell drugs?" Jack asks incredulously. I bite my lip.

"Shut the fuck up, Jack." Angel says again. "And stop playing with that damn thing." He smacks the back of Jack's hand, making the spinning quarter topple on to the table.

"Lay off, man." Jack growls, clamping his fist around the coin. Angel just looks back at us.

"I'm sorry." I say.

"Don't fucking apologize." Bobby growls. "Tell us what the hell we want to know, kid."

I nod and take a deep breath, opening my mouth to continue.

**TBC**

**Thank you all, my faithful readers/reviewers; I'm so glad to see you're enjoying the story!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Rock and A Hard Place 3**

Love is an opening, opening to the highest states of consciousness.

Love is an opening, opening to the highest states of consciousness.

I never liked that song. It was too slow and repetitive. Then again, I never knew what it meant. Because for me, love wasn't really enlightening or any of the other shit he talks about. Mostly, it felt confining. It felt good, yeah, 'cause girls are hot and the feeling of that light air rolling around in your stomach is great too.

But John Wink dooped me for years. The song was about drugs. About lover's speed. About Ecstasy.

I never did drugs. And yeah, I wasn't the most sheltered kid with older brothers and the shit they talk and growing up in Detriot, but Ma made sure I never got my hands on anything addictive.

I also never ran in with drug dealers. Sure, I talked to kids who dealed, but I never went looking for the big timers.

Good thing, too.

The first time I heard Cray's name tossed around was at a party. It was at Becky Foster's house. She's one of the few kids at my school to have enough money, or at least her parents do, to slip into the upper levels of the middle class.

She has white shoes and an even whiter collar, and she doesn't even work yet. Probably won't have to. Her house was big too. That night, Alick had talked us all into going, something about keeping our street cred, but mostly, he wanted to see Becky.

Regular ladies man, our Alick.

So we went. It sucked. For a preppy party, it wasn't the worst. It just wasn't our regular territory. Just to show, D'Shawn was leaning up against the Foster's grand piano in his old, baggy jeans and roughed up J's with his brother's old t-shirt hanging loose off his shoulders. Street trash at it's finest. But we all look like that, so it doesn't bother me. Just seems out of place near doilies.

"What do y'all wanna do? I say we skip this joint and head up to the convenience store. Pick up some real babes." He smirks.

"With what, your charming personality, man?" Win snorts. "Give me a break. You got better luck serenading dames at Brookedale." I chuckle.

D'Shawn gives a slight growl in annoyance. "No. I got some cash the other day."

"So what. You gonna flash them some and watch them come snapping at you? You're gonna need a lot more than five bucks." Alick shakes his head. "You a real head case, man."

"Fuck that." Is all he replies. "I got it handled. I can guarantee I'm banging way more chicks than all y'all." He gives us a suggestive raise of the eyebrows.

I snort. "Sure, man." Then I pause. "Seriously though, where'd you get it? From a drain? Or did you steal it this time?"

D'Shawn grins white, shaking his head. "Naw. Real green ones. Z got some."

"And he just handed you some. Like, 'yo, little bro, come take my money'?" Alick jabs at his shoulder, looking skeptical and ready to laugh. D'Shawn moves aside easily enough, eyeing us all. I grin.

Our friend just shrugs. "He's got a new job."

"Yeah, as a shotter." That's Win. He looks unimpressed. "Nothing new."

D'Shawn shrugs. "Ain't like you haven't thought of it. 'Sides, it makes a shit ton. He just bought a car. It's a piece of shit, but it's more than any of us got."

Win shakes his head. "I wouldn't go near Cray even if I had to. He's made news. He'll fuck you up."

"Scared?" D'Shawn leers playfully.

"No. Just not a dumbass."

"Wow, pretty boy, real nice. Look at prissy little Win-boy bein' all honest." Alick guffaws loudly. D'Shawn and I join in. Win glowers.

"I just wanna live."

There is a lull. I pull myself up onto the top of the piano next to D'Shawn. "Who's Cray?" I ask.

Win shrugs. "He deals, man. Biggest one around. He has a whole ring. Maxwell? He's in on it. Other kids at school too, pricks on the street, lots of thugs. Everyone knows who he is."

"Not everyone." Alick coughs.

I roll my eyes. "I do now."

Alick shakes his head. "Sometimes you so white I feel like I just gotta unload a shit ton of info for you to understand a damn thing." He says lightly.

"S'not true." I grouse. I decide to get the conversation off me. "So what's your brother make?"

D'Shawn looks over at me and shrugs. "I dunno. A lot, I guess. He gets bags of all kinds and brings them around work, the street; some kids at school go after him. Like I said though, he just got a lot."

I raise my eyebrows. "And he just gave you some?" I ask.

D'Shawn shakes his head.

Alick hops up from leaning against the window frame and laughs triumphantly. "I knew it! Shit did I know it!"

Alick shoots him a look, switching feet. "I'm just borrowing it."

"Whatever." Win moves to stand. "Y'all coming or am I going alone?"

"Where?" D'Shawn asks, uncrossing his arms and standing too.

"Sundries." Is all Win says. So yeah, the convenience store on Monroe. I watch D'Shawn's face twitch with the hint of a smile. Then we all pull ourselves upright and walk out of the party.

Or try to.

I get pulled back into the room with the Foster's staircase. Because yeah, they're so loaded they have a room for that.

And she is hot.

Emily is one of Becky's friends. I'd heard about her and I'd seen her. But this feels like the first time I'd seen her in the wild, like an exhibit at the zoo in real life. Up close and personal. She smells like baby powder, hairspray, and girl sweat.

I breathe in deep through my nose.

She grins, making the dimples on her cheeks visible. She wears too much make up, but she has nice eyes and I like her smile. Then there was the rest of her and well, she isn't a cheerleader for nothing.

"You come here often?" She purrs.

I shake my head, mouth opening and closing like a dying trout. Damn I need to stop watching those nature shows.

She giggles, that sweet girlish sound and my heart pounds more. I don't know what to do or what to say. Girls are pretty great in person.

"Mm." She smiles again, still clutching my arm. "You're… Alex, right?"

I nod slowly.

She nods. "I've heard a lot about you. Why haven't we met before?" She lets her mouth fade into a hint of a pout.

I shrug. "Beats me." I say honestly, finally finding my voice.

I must have said it just right, because her grin spreads across her face and she pulls me in for a rough kiss. Well shit.

I have no composure. But I do think to put an arm around her waist. That works. I've seen it before. But yeah, first kiss and all I suck at it. I think. I don't really know.

Then I lean into the wetness of her lips in the warm room and it is amazing.

Holy hell.

Her tongue makes it into my mouth and I feel it go straight to my dick. Then she stops. Emily's deep brown eyes search mine and she smiles again. Her pupils are huge. She wavers a bit.

"You okay?" I ask.

She giggles again, "Yes. Did try this though." She pulls out a small, blue pill with what looks like butterfly on it.

I raise my eyebrows. "E?" I might not know Cray, but I know this shit. Drugs are bad. Period. Jerry and Ma nailed that into my psyche from an early age.

"Of course. You have to do things right." She pauses, fingering the hem of my shirt and brushing her fingers on my neck. I shiver involuntarily. "To _feel_ things right. It makes it better." She smiles slowly, slipping her hand with the pill into my own. My palms are sweaty and I feel it stick to my skin. She pulls her hand away slowly, still holding my gaze.

I look down at my hand and the smear of blue by the small tablet.

I shrug. Some risks are worth taking.

Especially for a girl.

Then I put it in my mouth, because you only have one life to live.

I glance over Emily's shoulder to see D'Shawn grinning at me from the doorway of the house. We make eye contact and he winks, stepping back out into the dark night with our friends.

Good going, man.

XXXXX

"So, you get any?" D'Shawn prods, as he pumps air into his bicycle tires. It's seen better days, but when you don't have money to replace it, you run it into the ground.

I shake my head, scuffing my sneakered foot on the rough, broken patch of cement on his driveway. I glance up. "Tried. Coppers showed up before anything happened." 

D snorts loudly. "You were high as hell, man. That's somethin'."

I laugh. "Yeah. It was kinda great."

He raises an eyebrow, screwing on the plastic cap of the tire. "And coming back down to earth, pretty boy?"

"Like I got fucked." I say.

"Except you didn't."

I shrug. "I felt like I got run over by a truck."

He laughs, pressing on the tire to gauge the pressure. "Welcome to man hood, brother." He claps me on the shoulder. I shrug off his hand.

"S'not funny, D."

I looks at me evenly. "Didn't say it was. Drugs are crazy."

"You taken a lot?"

"Some." He shrugs nonchalantly, like some casual druggie. "Mostly from her stash."

I nod. D'Shawn's Mom has been addicted to drugs for longer than we've been alive; she's always been wasted when I've seen her. We always knew we could find some real shit at his house, if we wanted it. The crazy thing was though, she always seemed to know if we did it, so we never tried. She was high as hell, but still had the senses of a mother bear.

Fucking crazy.

"You're brother doesn't…?" I trail off.

D'Shawn gives a negative shake of the head as he observes his ride. He kicks at the rusted bike stand. "Naw. Maybe a few times, mostly uses it for cash. Like I said, there's good money there."

I nod slowly. "And Cray would give you stuff to sell?"

My friend looks sharply at me, his large forehead compacting into a deep frown. "I ain't getting into that shit."

"That shit?" I say, crossing my arms across my chest in a Mexican standoff with my friend. "You complain about your bike, games, girls, hell, man, you've complained about your B.O."

He frowns harder. "Oh fuck that, I have not."

"You were talkin' just yesterday about how bad your armpits smell." I counter.

"Shut up." He growls.

I sigh. "I'm just saying. We could check it out. Sure it's shit—"

"And Cray will fuck us up if we don't pay him back." He interrupts.

"Yeah, but—"

"And our brothers will beat the hell out of us."

I sigh loudly. "Would you let me talk?"

He shrugs.

"At least take me there or tell me where to go. I want some cash. You can stay here, see if I care."

D'Shawn groans, shaking his head as he ties the tube of the pump around the base. "Your funeral, man."

XXXXX

Jerry pulls me from my thoughts clearly his throat mildly. I look up quickly.

"Oh. I don't know." I begin. "It was a few months ago. I made D'Shawn—"

"Who the hell-?" Angel starts in confusion.

"Daniel." I finish, glancing up at my brother. Bobby glowers at him, waiting for me to continue.

"I made him take me to Cray's place, you know, off of, well, there. You know. Then I talked to Cray." I stop quietly.

"About what?" Jerry probes, his hands flat against the table, fingertips extended towards me.

This is fifty kinds of fucked up.

I shift again in my seat. "I wanted some…stuff to sell. To make money." Bobby gives an angry snort and I shift nervously, wincing as my jeans and the hardwood of the chair rub up against my ass. "So he gave me some." I finish simply. I glance around the table at my brothers.

Bobby fixes me with his cold stare. "Are these the rest of those?" he points to the pile in the middle of the table.

I shake my head.

"Talk with your damn mouth." He says tightly.

"No. I sold all those, to kids at school. I paid him what I owed and kept the rest. Uh, then, I got some more."

"How many times?"

I sigh in frustration. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, it fucking matters!" Bobby nearly shouts, his fist clenched on the table. I shrink back nervously. "I want to know what the fuck you have been doing and how much of this shit," he gestures to the pills, "you unloaded. How much do you owe that prick?"

"Only sixty dollars." I reply quietly. Jerry takes a deep breath, cutting Bobby off again with a firm look.

"Where were you plannin' on getting this money?"

I shake my head. "I don't know."

He nods sadly. "You know, if you wanted pocket money, you should've talked to me. I could have got you a paper route or somethin'." I nod my head in shame.

Well, when you say it like that…

"'M sorry." I mumble.

Then he does something unexpected. Jerry pulls out his wallet, pushing three twenty dollars bills at me. "See these?" I nod slowly. He looks around the table at all of us. "We all gonna head down to Cray, pay him, and get you out. No more dealing. Understand?"

I nod again, dumbly.

Then Bobby speaks again. "No. Talk, kid. You don't fuck with pricks like Cray. You don't sell shit and you sure as hell don't take it." He speaks low, his eyes boring into mine. I look at my folded hands in my lap to avoid his gaze. "Look at me." He says forcefully. I look up. "This ends now, got me?"

I nod again.

"Say it, kid. I need to hear you say it."

"I-I won't, Bobby. Jerry, Angel, Jack. I promise." They nod collectively.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Rock and A Hard Place 4**

Angel pulls me into the living room, followed by Jack, moving me to the couch to shove me down into it. I let myself sink into the cushions as the blanket on the back starts to fall on my shoulders. Honestly, it's kinda comforting being enveloped by this couch. It also feels like I'm being eaten, so I shrug off the blanket.

Angel isn't rough with me, but even as he stands back I can tell he is still pissed. Jack stops to stand by the chair and the fireplace, and the two exchange a glance.

"Alex." Angel starts firmly. I look up into his dark eyes. "Look around you, kid. Everyone here loves you and that ain't gonna change at the drop of a hat. But you can't do this shit. You can't lie and deal drugs. You're gonna get your ass killed."

Jack nods slowly, his crazy hair bobbing in agreement and I lower my head uncomfortably. Unlike Bobby though, Angel doesn't look for my verbal answer. He just shifts on his feet as our oldest two brothers walk in.

Jerry whispers something to Bobby, who stops near the doorframe, eyeing us. Jerry clears his throat. "We goin' to talk to Cray about this and pay him back." He glances at Jack. "You watch him." He nods at me.

Jack nods. "Don't worry, he's not moving."

I go to protest, rising slightly in my seat. "Aw Jerry…"

"No." Bobby says, straightening up. "You fucked around with this too long. We're ending it and you're not coming. You don't get a say."

I close my mouth, avoiding his cold gaze. I don't really want to go. Cray scares the shit out of me and probably everyone else. I mostly just don't want to feel like a little kid getting babysat by his older brother. I'm not two, Bobby. But I don't say it out loud, that shit could get a man killed.

Bobby nods. Angel turns back, walking to meet up with Jerry and the three of them file out of sight. Jack and I stay in silence as we listen to them leave the house and start up the car. It takes three times to get the engine working, but then they head out.

It feels too quiet and I realize I haven't been alone at the house or with only one other person since Mom died.

It's crazy to think about. Kinda weird too.

Jack looks me over, the shadows on his face dark from the light filtering through the front window. "You okay?" he asks.

Honestly, I don't know what to say, so I just sit there. I royally fucked up. In the history of Mercer failures and shenanigans, this probably takes the cake. My eyes burn when I think about how Ma would've reacted. The disappointment in her eyes and the soft way she would talk, unless I wouldn't answer her or lied, then she'd raise her voice. I just shrug. "Bobby's going to kill me." I say.

It isn't a question and Jack knows it. He shifts uncomfortably on his feet before turning around to find the chair and sit down. He meets my gaze. "Maybe."

I snort. "Thanks, Jack. You're a real help." I purse my lips.

Jack's face hints at a smile as he leans forward in his chair. "I don't know what to tell you. I never did anything like this."

"Really?"

Jack nods. "Really. I'm not saying I haven't done anything wrong, just never this."

I exhale slowly, switching my gaze to the opposite wall and we sit in silence again.

Jack slowly clears his throat. "So, why did you do it?"

I want to roll my eyes, groan, and leave the room. I don't know. Not you too, Jack. Everyone already grilled me, now you too. "I already said."

"No, you didn't. He says simply. "You gave some lame excuses. I know you better than that." He voice is kind, but serious. He's right, but it almost scares me. I'm not planning on telling him. I can't.

I keep looking away, not able to bring myself to talk.

"Why the hell do you do this?" He asks, not for the first time this week.

I look back at my brother. "What?"

"This." He gestures to me. "You clam up and don't talk. I just want to help. To talk. C'mon, man."

I shake my head. "I said it all already, Jack."

He shakes his head in annoyance. "So you said."

"I meant it." I fire back, glaring at him.

He watches me closely, slowly opening his mouth, squaring himself to me. "I know. I also know you're lying." Then he turns back to look at the adjacent wall, he eyes leaving mine, and letting himself sink into the chair with his arms firmly on the rests.

Something about his words cut into me. Bobby and Angel yell and storm around when they're angry or they know I'm lying, but there's something about the quiet confidence, knowledge, and frustration of Jerry and Jack that affects me. I want to tell Jack, because he does know I'm lying, but he isn't flipping a damn table about it. He is quietly confronting me like and equal. Not some little punk ass kid.

I watch him some more before answering. "I thought it'd be cool." I say. Jack turns in surprise, not so much at my answer but that I answered at all. "I wanted some cash and I wanted to try it. I like the idea of it. The kids— the one's at my school who do it— they get everything they want." I admit.

"That's it?" He seems to believe me, taking in my words slowly.

I shrug. "Yeah. Like I said, I already told you guys everything."

Jack scratches his nose. "What about your friend—?"

"D'shawn?"

"Yeah, him. Did he get into it?"

I shake my head.

Jack cracks a small smile. "You know, you could answer with words, it works too."

Again, I'm struck by how different the youngest of my older brothers is. Kind of like me, I think.

"So your friend didn't want you to do it, he didn't do it." He pauses, almost waiting for me to affirm what he said. "Do you think Ma wanted you to get involved in drugs?"

That hurts. It's like a knife jabbed just below my jugular and I feel a lump rise in my throat like tears waiting to push out. It hurts a lot. No! I want to yell. Of course Ma didn't want me too. She would have been ashamed because she worked so hard for so long to keep us all on the straight path and doing the right thing. This would have hurt her.

Then I can't help it and the tears come to my eyes. Damn conviction. Damn Jack. Damn Cray and his money and his words. Damn my own stupidity. I let my head drop in shame. And from the top of my head, I can see a blurry Jack nod his own head. Yeah, he knows what he said.

"I'm sorry." I choke out from the tears and built up saliva, as gross and pitiful as it is. "Ma would've, would've been so—"

Jack nods, understandingly, but cuts me off. "Ma would've forgiven you."

I look up quickly, the action causing a tear to run down my cheek. I swipe at my face quickly, eyeing my brother. He looks at me sadly. "Jerry and Angel, hell, even Bobby will too. It'll take some time. Yeah, you fucked up, and you got caught, but you're alive and you're done with that now, right?"

I nod slowly, letting my head drop to look at my worn out jeans, not wanting to answer. Even though Jack asked a question, there's just something that tells me he doesn't need an answer. He needs me to know my answer, but I don't need to say it.

So we sit again in silence and I pick at the hem of my jeans, slowly rubbing my fingers together and working a lose thread out from its hole.

"Bobby's still gonna beat my ass though." I say slowly, again, it isn't a question, just the facts.

Jack shrugs. "Probably."

I look up again. "Thanks for the support." I say sarcastically, but not unkindly.

He grins. "I said you fucked up, didn't I? And Bobby's still pissed; he'll want to make sure it doesn't happen again."

I shake my head. "It doesn't have to be like that." I mumble, but Jack must hear it because I notice his smile widen and he shakes his head. Because we both know it does, because Bobby is Bobby and he just works that way. It's almost worse hearing it from Jack in a slow and tempered way, but I did fuck up. So yeah, Bobby will nail me for it, and I deserve it, but we'll move on.

Jack shifts faster this time, pulling up from the slouch and looking around the room. "We still have any games?" He asks.

I give him a look.

What are we, the Brady bunch?

Good grief. But I still shrug. "I guess. We never dumped any of the stuff. Ma used to have some cards and like a board game or something in the hall closet." I nod towards the main room beyond the living room wall.

Jack nods, standing, and turns to disappear into the dinning room. I hear him open the door and something fall to the ground loudly, then a corresponding string of curses from my brother. I allow myself a small smile. The boxes were always kind of precarious; I guess he found that out the hard way. Soon enough though, Jack walks back in with two bent, old decks of cards in his hands.

He holds them up, looking at me. "Wanna play?"

I shrug.

He nods again, sitting down in the chair he recently vacated and shoving the coffee table between him and myself. He places the deck down on the hard wood. "Know how to play solitaire?" He doesn't look up at me as he sorts the cards.

I swipe at my nose casually. "That's for one person."

He gives frustrated snort. "Not shit, really?" He looks over at me. "No. We go head to head, see who can finish their stack first." He holds his cards, indicating the other worn deck closer to me.

I shrug and slap a hand down on it, slowly dragging it across the table. I pick the cards up and break the deck in half. I start to shuffle, or try, I don't get very far and Jack grabs my deck and starts shuffling them like he's a regular croupier. It's weird too, seeing my punk rocker brother preparing a game of cards in this living room. Compared to all the other crazy shit that's happened lately, this feels too normal, but at the same time, so weird. Too weird. I shiver.

Jack tosses me my cards and starts in on his own, laying them out in piles. I do the same, glancing at his to see the set up. I'm shit at this. Twenty-eight cards, seven piles, all spread out from one card to seven in a pile. Honestly, I've only played this game once and I gave up pretty quickly; it just didn't make sense to me.

Jack checks the card in the pile of one, flipping it over. He raises his eyebrows.

"I have a seven." Jack says, looking at me. "You?"

I give him a blank look. What the hell…?

Jack leans forward, flipping over the card in my one card stack. He holds it up for me to see. "Four. Your move." He sets it back down, eyes still fixed on me. I look down at my cards again.

Jack sighs. "You need to flip 'em over, kid. You can't play with the back of the cards."

I mumble a quick apology and start flipping the cards over so I can see their numbers and suites. Apparently this is more complicated than it looks.

XXXX

Jack wins the first game easily. And the second and thirds games too. We don't talk much, mostly we focus on playing. Or at least Jack does, I fumble around and stare blankly at the cards until he tells me what I should do for my turn. We did turn-based play, so it wasn't even about speed, but I suck at Solitaire and noticing the numbers and solutions and patterns.

My brother sighs. "You ever played Solitaire before?" Jack looks up at me, before collecting his cards in a pile to shuffle and set them up again. "Because you play like shit. You gotta try, Alex."

"Yeah. Sorta."

"What don't you get?" He probs.

I shrug, glancing up at him. "I'm just distracted is all."

Jack snorts. "Sure, kid, that's the problem."

I shrug, slowly picking up the individual cards and collecting them in my hand. "It doesn't even make sense. You already went over the rules; it just doesn't stick for me. We could stop." I say.

Jack shakes his head, shifting in his seat. He splits his deck in half, bending the worn cards slightly. "Well let's make it stick." He begins to shuffle his cards again. I groan, pushing my complete deck back on to the coffee table and falling back into the couch cushions.

"I can't."

Jack sighs, mumbling something like, "Damn kid." To himself.

I don't look back at him though; I just stare up at the discolored, formerly white ceiling. There's some minor water damage turning it yellow and brown in one corner. I never noticed that before.

I hear Jack shove his deck aside, rising, and walking over to the TV to snatch the remote. He starts to walk back, turning briefly over his shoulder to flip it on.

"What's on?" I ask, letting my right arm flop on to the couch. Jack settles back in his chair before turning the volume on. Helpful thing, that volume button. "Mmph."

I pull my neck up to look at him, but Jack's transfixed on the TV screen. It looks like 60 Minutes. Who even watches that crap? I shake my head, letting it fall back down and give a slight bounce when it hits the couch cushion.

It smells like butt. I decide to get up and walk to the kitchen.

"Hey!" Jack calls as I walk through the door into the dinning room. "Where the hell are you going?"

I pop my head back in, meeting his eyes. "Food."

Jack cracks a small smile before looking back at the remote. I head back towards the kitchen, pulling open the fridge.

I hear Jack come in too, walking straight over to open a cabinet and grab two plates. I glance up at him questioningly.

"I forgot we didn't eat." He says as an explanation.

I just shrug. "What can you cook?" I ask.

"Plenty."

I nod slowly. "What do you want to cook?"

Jack grins. "Nothing, little brother. But sandwiches works, right?"

"Yeah, yeah that's good." I lean into the fridge, grabbing some of Bobby's salami, a head of lettuce, and some provolone cheese. Jack snags the bread out of the cabinet too and drops the loaf by the plates, untwisting the tie to open the bag.

Jack set to cutting the bread into slices, putting them on the plates, and getting the mayonnaise out of the fridge. I slap some slices of meat, cheese, and peel off pieces of lettuce to put in our sandwiches. Jack quirks an eyebrow at me, but doesn't call me on it. Hey, when you gotta eat, you gotta eat.

And we do, in silence. It wasn't a proud moment for the two youngest Mercer brothers as we lean up against the cabinets in the small kitchen and inhale our dinner. Ma would've been mortified and chased us out with a wooden spoon. Probably.

We just have bullshit manners.

Jack seems to think so too, because he glances at the door to the dinning room to his left. "We should probably sit." He says, contemplatively.

I shrug, taking another bite, which gets mayo on the side of my mouth. I give him a confirming nod. Again, probably.

Jack shrugs too. But neither of us moves to go sit down like civilized people. We just eat loudly and wait for our brothers to get home.

XXXX

RRIIIING

RRIIIIIIIIINNG

I groan, feeling like I'm being stretched from the darkness of sleep into a loud and rude reality. I crack an eye open, or try to, but it closes shut again, crusty from sleep. I raise my eyebrows too, but that doesn't open my eyes and frankly, I don't want it to.

RRIIIIIIIIIINNNNNGGG

I move my head forward quickly to get to the phone, but it smacks against something hard and my eyes fly open. "Shit!"

Damn mornings.

I realize I'm on the couch, in the living room, and my left leg fell asleep. The pins and needles sting and pinch my calf muscle and the ball of my foot and I rub it.

RRIII—

I'm going to shoot that phone or throw it up against the wall and watch it swing on its cord. But Jack picks it up before it finishes the last blaring screech of its' song. I rub my head, slowly sitting up and stretching my arms.

I slept well, that much I know. But it is too damn early to be awake on a Saturday. I don't know what time it is, but guaranteed, it is too damn early.

Jack appears in the doorway, he hair messier than usual, if that is even possible. He's still in clothes from yesterday, so we probably were both sleeping on the living room furniture. Making Mom proud one moment at a time.

"Who was that?" I mumble groggily.

"Bobby." I perk up, watching him. He comes to sit back on the couch next to me, his weight causing the cushion to pull down towards him and I feel myself slide slightly.

XXXXX

**TBC **

**Wow. Thank y'all again for the continued support. I'm sorry it is taking me so long to update this one. I promise I'll get better at this in the future. Hopefully. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Rock and A Hard Place 5**

I glance at him.

Jack sits for a minute, just watching me. I can tell he isn't fully awake yet and if I'm being honest, neither am I. My eyes want to shrivel up and stay closed for another eight hours until the muscle are strong enough to open.

As it is, I just wrinkle my nose and widen my eyes. I probably look pretty stupid because Jack gives me a funny look.

"So..?" I prod, leaning forward slightly.

Jack shrugs. "Not sure. It sounds like they met up with Cray last night. Angel beat up on some guy and they're at the hospital. He broke his arm. They—"

"He broke the dude's arm?" I ask in surprise.

Jack frowns. "No, uh, Angel. His arm is broken. The other guy is bad off too, but it's Angel."

"Shit." I whisper.

Jack nods slowly, lethargically. Then he sighs, shifting to push up off his knees. He looks at me. "Get dressed, okay? Let's go see them."

I nod quickly. "Yeah, but what about Cray? I mean, you said they talked. What did they say? Are we good or what?"

Jack moves to stand. "I don't know. We might be good, but I think you and Bobby—"

I roll my eyes. "Oh come on, Jack." I say in frustration. "Stop doing that!"

"What?" He looks annoyed, glancing back at me.

"I don't know." I grumble. "Talking about that. Everything. You don't think I know he's going to kill me?"

He starts walking towards the stairs, not looking at me. "Stop interrupting me, you little idiot." He grumbles.

Jack doesn't do mornings.

I glower. "That's not an answer!" I call after his retreating form.

I see his shoulders shrug. Then, almost too quiet for me to hear, he adds: "It isn't an apology either."

Damn brothers.

Damn morning too.

XXXXX

"Yes, we're looking for an Angel Mercer." Jack speaks at the woman's head. She is a large woman with dark hair and kind eyes. It sounds stupid to say, but she just seems likes one of those ladies who is nice and would call you sweet heart or sugar, not matter how old you are.

It's all in the eyes, I'm telling you.

She isn't actually paying attention to Jack, not really. She glances up briefly, but she's in the middle of something, so we wait in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

She looks up from her file, quickly glancing over us both with a smile. "Hello there." She continues typing.

Jack nods. "Uh, yeah. Hi. We're—"

"What's your name, sugar?" She asks kindly enough, finally giving us her attention. She has a deep southern drawl, which sounds so out of place here. It matches how she looks though.

But I guess that's also a strange thing to say.

Jack looks intimidated by this lady, so I step in. "I'm Alex and this is my brother, Jack. We're looking for Angel Mercer."

She smiles again. "You know him?"

I look back at Jack. Still immobile and worried. Okay then… "Uh, yes, ma'am." I say. I figure the ma'am part won't hurt.

She nods, checking the computer for the Angel. "Not everyday someone calls me ma'am." She muses humorously, giving me a wink.

I force a laugh. I just don't know how to handle this type, so I elbow Jack. He gives me a shove.

I move to hit him again, but the nurse looks up again. Her nametag says Alice, I note. "Well, boys, how do you know our Mr. Mercer?" She asks conversationally, leaning back in her chair, hands resting on her lap.

"He's our brother?" I say slowly.

"That a questions?" She looks me up and down, a quirky smile replacing the kind one.

I shake my head. "Uh, no. No, ma'am. He is. Our brother, I mean. Yeah."

She nods. "Mm hmn. And how many brothers do y'all have?" She looks pretty skeptical.

"A lot." I blurt out.

She nods again. "Looks like it."

This is a weird conversation and I don't know what she wants from it, so I just start talking. Normally Bobby would argue it's a bad thing when I blab, but it looks like that is exactly what this Alice character wants.

"Well, Bobby and Jerry are in there with him. The thing is, there's five of us, me, Angel, Jerry, Jack here, and Bobby too. None of us are related, but we're brothers. Foster care, you know? So Jack and I…. well, Jack has a license. Our last name is Mercer and we're the other two. And—"

"You have a license?" She turns to Jack, still kindly.

He nods slowly. "Yeah, I do." He pulls out his wallet, handing her the license.

She checks it, glancing between his face and the little card. "Alright, sugar, you two just sign in on this clipboard." She indicates the lined paper in front of me and the pens with flowers taped to them. "And we'll get you two stickers and send you to your brothers. Alright?"

"Yes, thanks." Jack says shortly, easing a small smile.

By the time we're out of earshot, I'm almost laughing. "What? You don't like hospitals or something?"

Jack gives me a frown before checking another door number for Angel. "No." Is all he says.

I snort. "Glad we had this talk." I reply cheekily.

Jack doesn't say anything, so we keep walking.

Past another gurney and five more empty or occupied rooms, I smile again. "She was really nice. Late forties, kind. Why didn't you like her?"

"It wasn't her." Jack sighs. "I just don't like hospitals."

We keep speed walking around a corner to come face to face with Bobby. He's holding a foam cup of coffee and looking dead tired. "Where the hell have you two been?" He asks.

"Good to see you too, man." Jack says sarcastically.

Bobby smacks him upside the head, to which Jack winces, ducking forward.

Bobby checks me over. "You good?"

I shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine." He nods. "How's Angel?"

"A royal pain in the ass." Bobby grunts, jerking his head to our left. We follow him into one of the off-white room. They smell like hospital. No shit, man… Angel is propped up on pillows in a gown on the bed, his arm is in a cast and his eyes are closed. He only has some bruises and a cut on his cheek.

It doesn't bother me much. I can't remember a week where one of them didn't come home with a shiner or a sprain from sports or a fight. Ma would always get up on all of us for it, but we just play rough. Angel is no different.

He cracks an eye open. "Took y'all long enough. Getting your beauty sleep?"

"Or you are, man." Bobby grins.

Angel opens both eyes, glowering at Bobby. "Shut the fuck up, man." He says more slowly, accentuating each word. Bobby just laughs loudly before sitting down in the chair with his coat hung over it.

I smile. "How do you feel?" I ask, kicking at a piece of toilet paper on the floor.

"Like shit. But I ain't staying here." He shakes his head. "Not anymore." He gives me a wink. "Jackie boy take care of you?"

I shrug.

"Hey!" Jack interjects. "We played solitaire."

I look at Bobby pleadingly. "Please don't leave me with him again!" I joke, putting my hands up in a mock prayer, sinking to me knees.

I pull up just before my knees hit the cold tile, grinning between my brothers. Jack flips me off with a grin.

Even Jerry laughs at that.

"What?" Bobby asks. "No dress up? No skirts or frills? Shit, man, I thought I knew you, you little fairy." He directs this at Jack.

Jack rolls his eyes. "Leave it alone, man." He shuffles forward to lean his weight on the door jam of Angel's room.

Bobby holds up his hand and the coffee mug. "I'm just sayin'. I don't judge."

Jack mumbles something incoherent under his breath.

Let's be nice, folks, please.

Bobby chuckles again, sipping his coffee before making eye contact with me.

I look away quicker than shit off a shovel.

"So." Jerry begins. I look up to see his head on the other side of the lump that is Angel. "We talked to Cray. I bet y'all are interested." The room quiets significantly and my brothers lose their smiles. Even Angel. Especially Angel.

Jack grunts and I stand stock-still. I can feel Bobby watching me from his chair, but I don't want to look.

Jerry nods. "Alright. Well, we headed up to The Ditch and we were stopped by some of Cray's boys. They chatted us up all nice. Then Angel socked one." Jerry shakes his head.

"Hey!" Angel interjects indignantly, suddenly interested. "Man, what I tell you? Y'all can stand there and listen to that fucker talk shit about Ma, but I won't."

Jerry brushes it off with the wave of his hand. "Well twinkle toes beat the shit out of him–" Angle nods in affirmation. "So we went in."

"Cut to the chase, Jerry." Bobby voices. I turn to look at him briefly as he resituates in his chair. Almost like a Lord presiding over a court. You know he's in charge by the way he sits. It sounds strange, but I swear, it isn't!

"Hold on." Jerry frowns impatiently. "Alex?"

I jerk back to look at him. "Uh, yeah?"

He gives me a small smile. "You off the hook, kid. We paid Cray the full amount, so he won't bother you again."

I nod slowly, smiling. "That's it? I mean, there's nothing else?" I glance at Bobby, then back to Jerry and even Jack.

"Shit, kid, you want something else? I got your right arm right here." Angel groans, lifting the casted appendage up for me to see.

I smirk. "Jerry said—"

"Fuck Jerry, man." Angel shakes his head. "He don't know shit. I did what I had to." He lets his head fall back onto the pillow heavily, watching the tiles on the ceiling.

I nod again.

Then I gulp. "I, uh, I'm really… I'm really sorry, I guess." I stare down at my sneakers. They look like crap, which is about what I feel, so it seems fitting.

"You guess?" Bobby asks sternly.

I sneak a look at him. He seems calm, but serious. It's freaky how that man can switch from juvenile humor to fury in a matter of seconds.

Multiple personalities? Bipolar? Maybe he is actually a polar bear. Obviously it doesn't make sense, regardless, I almost like that idea. Except that polar bears are man eating, wild animals. They are sounding more like Bobby by the moment.

"No. I am. Sorry, I mean." I shrug lamely at my apology, still staring intently at the ground.

Angel snorts and I see Jerry nodding slowly from his chair. Bobby doesn't say anything and neither does Jack.

XXXXX

I didn't notice it earlier, with my head bent down and Bobby's hand on the back of my neck, but Angel wasn't the only one hurt. Bobby pushed me inside the front door. "Go on to your room." He said gruffly, but not unkindly.

The rest of my brothers helped Angel and themselves up the driveway and into the dinning room where the piled around the table. For my part, I stop a few stairs up, just enough to be hidden by anyone walking by, but far enough down I can hear them talking.

"Shit, Bobby, your shoulder—"

"Shut the fuck up, Jack." Bobby cuts him off. "Alex!" He yells.

I slip up the stairs as fast and quietly as I can. "Yeah?" I holler down.

"Your room." Bobby calls at me. "Not shit. Get in your room."

I roll my eyes, but dutifully walk over to my door and shut it, loud enough so they can hear. Then I open it slowly, so I can run in at a moments notice. I slip back down to my initial hiding spot and as my breath calms down, I can hear them talking.

"It went smoothly, huh?" Jack says dryly.

"Smooth as it was gonna go." I can almost see Jerry shaking his head. "They got a lot of muscle and we, well, we didn't."

"Yeah, little brother, you should've come." This was Bobby. "Fuckers woulda loved you."

"I was babysitting, remember?" Jack replies with an edge to his voice.

"Alright you little fairy, don't break that stick up your ass." Bobby mutters. I swipe at my nose, careful not to make any noise.

Jack snorts. "But it is covered?"

"Fuck, Jack. Yeah, we told you that, boy." Angel groans. I hear one of the chairs scrape backwards and something heavy fall on to it.

"Told me everything like you told Alex everything? Or told me everything?" Jack asks hotly. "I'm not a kid, Bobby."

"Oh shut the fuck up, Jack." Bobby snaps. "Yeah we told you everything. No shit. It was fast. There was a fight and we won it. Cray won't be talking anytime soon."

"You broke his jaw?" Jack is as surprised as I am, so I lean in closer.

"Naw. Angel did that one. I cracked the rips." Bobby chuckles.

"How did you even get to him?"

"Oh quit worrying, Jackie boy." Bobby groans, shifting in his seat. "We got guns too. It's taken care of and we told you every fucking thing."

"Better have." Jack grumbles, almost sounding whiny.

"We did."

"Good."

I can feel my right foot falling asleep. I'm resting most of my weight on it, trying not to topple down the stairs, but staying in a position so I can book it if I need to. I'm angry too; they're keeping the reality of their visit from me. It's then I realize Bobby is hurt and so is Jerry. Angel probably has it worse than I know.

Shit, shit, shit.

"I don't know, man." Jerry starts again. "He's got a right to know."

"The boy has a right to get his ass beat." Bobby counters roughly. I shiver. Then I start down the stairs. I'm done listening. I appear in the doorway as Jerry opens his mouth, but rather than talking, he looks surprised.

Bobby spins around, his right arm resting on the back of his chair. He has a leg propped up on one chair and his shoulder is badly bruised and it was probably dislocated.

Jerry has a shiner over his left eye I couldn't see in his corner of the room at the hospital and all three of my oldest brothers have other assorted bruises and cuts along their arms and faces.

"Where do you think you're going?" Angel's voice is loud.

"You're hurt." Is all I can say.

Bobby grabs his jacket, covering his shoulder. "I told you to get your ass upstairs and in your room, Alex." He growls.

"But, Bobby—"

"I don't want your bullshit. Get in your fucking room."

I surprise myself and my brothers when I say simply. "No."

Bobby moves to stand and I shrink back quickly, I hand out behind me to feel the wall so I can turn.

"Bobby—" Jerry starts.

Bobby ignores this, but doesn't get up. "What did you just say to me?"

I gulp. "I said no. I want to know what really happened. I'm not a kid." I reply.

"Yes you're a fucking kid!" Bobby roars, slamming his hand down on the table. I flinch.

"I still wanna know." I mutter.

Bobby smacks the table, this time rising, pushing the chair back with his leg, and grabbing for me.

In my blind panic, I twist away, but my oldest brother grabs my arm roughly, turns me around and applies multiple hard swats to my ass. My hips push forward and I yelp loudly, trying to wrench my arms out of his grip. Bobby winds back for another round, but hollers himself at the pressure in his shoulder and lets go of me.

I jump back, covering my ass protectively and panting loudly. Bobby walks back to his chair, sitting down as he burses his shoulder. Jerry, Angel, and Jack don't look surprised, although worry is written on their faces. Although I'm not sure if it is for me or Bobby.

"Bobby." Jerry repeats. Bobby turns his head, glaring at our brother. "Let him talk."

They all look back at me and I shift uncomfortably on my feet. "I just want to know what really happened. I-It was my fault. I did this."

"Boy." Bobby interjects harshly. "I never gave you that ass beating for dealing with Cray."

I shake my head vehemently. Bobby just nods. "Keep your eyes on me, Alex. You got that?" He asks.

I nod slowly, meeting his gaze. He looks a little less pissed than earlier, but he still isn't smiling.

"I want the fucking truth, kid."

"I'm the one—" I start.

Bobby smacks his other hand down on the table. "Listen to me." He says angrily. "You blame yourself for this?"

I nod my head carefully. "Yeah.." My voice comes out weak.

"Fuck." Bobby mumbles. "Look, you got involved with Cray, right?" I nod. "You started selling drugs." I adds, but quickly look down. "I told you to look at me." Bobby's voice is hard.

I look up again into his brown eyes. I want so badly to pull back and look away. To watch Jack or the wall, or hell, my shoes.

"Did you start selling that shit?"

"Y-yes." I manage. He knows all of this, because we beat this dead horse yesterday.

He nods seriously again. "That's your fault." I look up, surprised.

Bobby's face is serious and he looks hurt in his anger. "You mess with Cray, he could've killed you and dumped your ass in an alley. And drugs? Those'll kill you too."

I fight the tears threatening to well up in my eyes. I blink hard, trying to avoid Bobby's gaze or the looks from our brothers.

I can't.

"I know." I choke out. "I'm sorry."

"No." He says. "Don't say you're fucking sorry. You're not. Not yet. I'm not done yet."

Oh god, how is he not done?

"What you did was fucking stupid and illegal and you could have gotten your ass kicked or killed." It hurts to hear him say it and I clasp my hands tightly. "Then you lied to us, right?"

I nod.

"Yeah. You told me lies. To my face, Alex. My fucking face!" He yells. "I want to trust you, boy, but your bullshit, that lost my trust. What if we couldn't help you, huh? What if you got in deep shit with Cray and we didn't know about it?"

My eyes are wet and I shift, trying hard to open my eyes wide enough that the tears will leave, but soon they make a thick blockade in my vision and I can't see Bobby. I let them start to fall and my breath hitches.

"That is your fault." Bobby says quieter, looking hard at me. "But you're bullshitting yourself if you think this is." He gestures to the table. To my injured brothers.

"You know better than to think we wouldn't do anything for you. Fuck, man, we're your brothers. I will beat the shit out of Cray and any other crazy motherfucker who tries to fuck with you. You got me? That ain't on you. I did that and Jerry and Angel. We did that because you're our brother."

"We love you, boy." Angel says thickly from the other side of the table. I look up slowly, tears running down my cheeks.

"Yeah. Y'all are my brothers." Jerry smiles warmly. "We ain't blood, but we gonna act like it. We have each other's back. Alright?"

I nod again, swiping at my eyes. "I-I'm sorry for the drugs and lying. I'm so sorry." I cry.

Bobby nods.

After a few minutes I sniff, no tears left in my eyes. My cheeks still feel wet, but it isn't bad. "Are you, uh, are you still…?" I trail off sheepishly, looking carefully at Bobby.

"You think you deserve it?" He asks. I probably looked shocked, because that is the most reasonable thing Bobby has ever said.

"What?" He gives me a look, scratching his forehead.

"You sounded like Ma, Bobby." I grin.

Angel laughs loudly, joined in by Jack and Jerry.

Jack slaps the table hard, buckling forward. "Damn, Bobby, you going to ask him if he wants a salad or vegetables with his order too?" That sends them all into another round of laughter. I try hard not to laugh, but I'm barely containing a smile.

Bobby looks pissed, but not angry. "Oh fuck you." He counters. Then he looks back at me. "Not today." He throws me the look. "I can't hit nuthin', my shoulder fucking hurts."

I nod slowly. Not the news I wanted to hear, but that's Bobby. Jerry smiles wanly at me, his eye puffy and swollen, but his bright intact. Angel is almost encase in casts and stitches, but for some reason, that's how I remember him. We're a mangled group and my ass is stinging fiercely. I push out the chair next to Bobby, positioning myself carefully on the hard wood. It doest help much and I still wince, but Jerry offers be a wane smile.

All four of them.

**End.**

**Thank you all for sticking with me for so long! I hope you enjoyed this story.**


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